I don't even- What
by Tori-Da-Mutt
Summary: I got hit with a million plot bunnies for transformers stuff that I'll never finish so here observe my caffeine coated brain seeds. T for violence, gore, language. Nothing serious.
1. Chapter 1

**I have no excuse for this except that I was watching Scrapheap and got inspired. As far as my mind will tell me, Miami is apparently a Prime'd pretender, like Alice from the movies, only she was created by Ratchet? Anyway, she looks like a people, except her back, joints, and stomach area aren't covered with fake-skin. Mobility. I guess? I don't even know, just-**

"So, if... _When _We get the ground bridge open, do we get the creepy-crawlies _out, _ bring our bots _in?_" Bulkhead groaned. Miami watched all of the bots carefully, crawling over Ratchet's chilled frame and poking around in any armor breaches to double check for iced scraplets. Her heart beat furiously in her chest- she was so close to losing them. So close to watching more people she cared about getting killed.

"Optimus and Arcee will be fresh meat. If we bring them in first, the scraplets will have no reason to leave." Ratchet answered. Mia paused, leaning back to look up at him.

"...So, we need... bait."

"Where are we gonna get bait?" Bulk growled back angrily. "The scraplets already helped themselves to everything in here!"

Her hands shook. She hid them by delving into another hole, feeling around carefully and pulling out a couple of scraplet teeth. She knew what this meant.

She eventually finished her search of Ratchet, and moved on to clear out Bumblebee. He seemed to be the best off of the three. Before she could move any closer to Bulkhead, the grates on the vents burst out, releasing a swarm of scraplets into the air. The massive bot dropped to the ground with a very un-manly squeak, and Miami's blood ran cold. Her heart pounded into her ribcage, even as the children stormed in, shouting for them to open the bridge.

Inspiration hit her in a wave of adrenaline as Ratchet lurched up and flipped the ground bridge controls. He imediately fell back to the ground, nearly crushing her under his shoulder and causing a rather large chunk of mauled armor to fall off. They weren't the only mechanical beings on base. Feeling an odd sort of numb, she seized it and hauled it towards the swirling vortex, beating it against the concrete and shouting, ripping off her over shirt to expose the techno-organic circuitry over her torso. The swarm swirled in air and came towards her, following as she dashed into the green-blue light, metal held over her head.

She could feel the vibrations of them gnawing on the metal before she was out the other side, and felt the absolute terror the bots must have felt. These things ate them alive. She could feel their teeth digging into her flesh as they easily ate through her sheild and continued after the metals inside her, searing pain through her neural net.

In seconds she was on the other side, still feeling the vibrations when she stumbled and dropped the armor shaving. She rolled over in the too deep snow, glancing outward to see their missing bots moving closer. She screamed, but couldn't hear her own voice, ripping a pair of scraplets from her legs and shoving them into the drifts around her. She clawed at the ones slowing on her back and added them to the pile.

She was already shaking with cold when Optimus scooped her out of the ice and snow, shaking so hard in fact that he nearly dropped her again, not that his coordination was very helpful at the moment. As they started through the ground bridge again, she collapsed into a ball in his palm, the newly exposed circuits and wiring of her back sparking. Before they were back into the base, she was unconcious.

Optimus lightly pet the technoorganic's head, offering her to Ratchet before accepting any help for himself. "She is brave, this one. You should be very proud to call her your own."

The medic smiled, exhaustion etched into his entire frame. "Believe me, Optimus... I am."

**also, to those who saw this episode- DO YOU REALIZE HOW VIOLENT AND GOREY THIS WAS?!**


	2. Chapter 2

Megatronus snarled, deflecting a blow from yet another guard and using the enemies sudden change in balance to his advantage, shoving his blade deep into the mechs chassis and kicking him off again. He turned to yell over his shoulder at his shorter companion. "Nightbeat, Run! Get out of here!"

And like that he was back in the fight, countering attacks and putting down mech after mech, determined to protect his friend.

A loud echo of blades stabbing through metal filled the air, half-masked by the sounds of battle, and suddenly there was a new weight against his back struts. He glanced around just enough to catch a glimpse of black and blue paint before kicking another guard in the faceplates. "I told you to run," he growled.

"Not a chance," she growled back, doing her fair share of spark-crushing as the guards closed in. "I left a mech behind once, and I'll live eternity in limbo before I do it again."

"You won't make it out alive if you stay and fight."

"Then at least I won't die a coward."

**yaaay super short but cute enjoy**


	3. thing part 1

**Dare I call this... Part One?** Eh.** Dawnstrike was a gladiator, like Megatron. One of his most loyal. She ended up not taking a vehicle mode. She turns into a giant cat. And, as you can see, she can take a beating. She apparently holds herself in a strange sort of idolization, and thinks she has to be perfect. (hint- it didn't go as well as planned) I don't know where this came from, but I LOVE this one. There will be a part two.**

**Eventually. Anyways.**

"...And should you fail me so spectacularly again, you shall pay with your spark. Am I understood, Dawnstrike?"

The orange-brown femme, leaning heavily on a large jumbo-jet landing gear, attempted to straighten up, face never deviating from directly in front of her. "Yes, My Lord."

"Good." The silver behemoth started to pace away before turning back to her. "For now, your punishment. You are not to recieve any further repairs until Knockout has finished all other repairs, on everyone, from this battle or any others recently, including the Vehicons. You are dismissed."

"Yes, Lord Megatron."

Without a flicker of discomfort on her face, she pirouetted on the spot, using the makeshift cane as a substitute for her missing leg and hobbled uncertainly out the door into the hallway. She managed to hold up her facade until she rounded the corner, just out of sight of anyone leaving the bridge, where she promptly collapsed to the floor, back against the wall, cane laying beside her. Her controlled vent burst out with a round of static, and she clutched at her good hip, oblivious to the vehicons nearing her position. It _hurt._ It hurt more than anything she could remember, and she knew why. Because she _wanted _the pain. She had failed. She had been so close and still failed. She deserved every twinge of pain, every torn cable and severed line and ground socket. She was a failure.

Her frame was shaking, her armor clamped down tight to keep it from rattling, even as the small group of vehicons turned the corner and stopped. With a few uncertain glances, all but one turned tail and continued down a different hallway. The one left behind slowly approached.

ST-3V3 had seen his commanders take a lot of damage- it was an occupational hazzard- but he'd never seen Dawnstrike suffer more than a dented chassis or a few torn cables in her shoulder struts or knee joints from overexertion. And this time, the damage was worse than he'd seen even on Commander Starscream. Her left leg had been lost at the hip- likely crushed, if the look of the blown-out socket was anything to go by- and had been only field patched, the energon lines clamped shut to keep them from leaking, half of her right arm was gone, scorch marks and poor welds criss-crossing the exposed protoform. A good deal of her abdominal plating had been wrenched out of place, a few sheets completely missing, granting a few glimpses of her internals and more of the protoform, and not a single piece of her armor wasn't dented or twisted.

He'd never seen anyone take damage like that and survive.

"C-Commander?" Her optics shot open, a blaze of yellow-orange, locking onto him, frame tensing up defensively, even as her face twisted into more of a pained grimace. "Shouldn't you be in-?"

"It's my punishment." She cut him off, helm dipping a bit. "I'm to be the last repaired. It's less than I deserve."

He hesitated, watching emotion flicker through her optics, before adding, "You should still get cleaned up. Officer Knockout will throw a fit if you're still covered in organic matter when your turn comes around."

She tilted her helm to glance at him, optics faded. "...Yeah. I should." she turned back to her good leg, reaching out to the mangled armor and lightly tracing what was obviously a large hand-shaped dent. "Can you... Will you, uh..."

He offered his servo, prepared to haul her to her- well, upright, at least. She sighed and accepted it. The moment she put weight on her pede, she hissed and spat static, stumbling back against the wall and falling back to the floor with a bang. Before Steve could so much as question her, she was scrabbling at the marred plating. It released with a crack, hitting the floor with an echoing thunk.

"Scrap, scrap, _frag me sideways...!"_ Dawn spat between bursts of static. She sucked in a deep vent, then leaned forward a bit to inspect the protoform. As she'd expected, the armor had rubbed a rather noticeable scar in her strut. She released her vent shakily. "Scrap. Alright. Let's try that again." The vehicon put it off long enough to gather the mangled plating before helping her upright again. Her leg shook slightly, but didn't give out. He easily pulled her arm over his shoulders, supporting her carefully.

"Hang on." He paused, glancing at her faceplates. After a moment, the sound of a transformation echoed through the hall. Her frame shuddered again. "There," She spat through grit denta. "Now we won't look like we're miscoded."

His gaze turned down for a second, registering that her pede had shifted into a wheel, and smiled behind his mask. "Do you mind using the Vehicon wash racks?"

She scoffed. "Like I'd be welcome in the Commanding Officers Wash racks, with Megatron, who I failed, and Starscream, who I nearly crushed in a cave-in?"

"Sorry."

"...Don't be."

They went quiet as he more or less pulled the mostly-mobile femme through the halls. A faint buzz of discussion grew louder as they neared the vehicon wash racks, and he could feel the femme growing tense, though he couldn't fathom why.

The doors slid open when they drew close. As the duo entered, the room quickly fell silent but for the sounds of water and cleanser splashing to the floor. Dawnstrike's helm dipped lower, ensuring she wouldn't look anyone in the face. Steve ignored the stares, guiding her to an open stall. "I'll grab a stool."

She nodded vaguely, shifting her wheel back to a pede, and once he'd released her arm, she braced it against the wall, deliberately ignoring the shiver in her knee. She would not collapse, not after making it so far, not in front of the troops-

The vehicon pulled her arm back and managed to keep her from falling onto the stool like a deadweight. Despite, she still made a small whine of pain that had the troops staring once more.

Swallowing her self hate, she spoke quietly. "What's your name?"

"ST-3V3. The other troops call me Steve." He quickly adjusted the dials, back to her. She watched numbly.

"...Thank you, Steve." She mumbled. The water started spraying from the nozzle, and he turned to her, wash rag in hand. He didn't answer, instead getting straight into his self-appointed mission, wiping away the grime across her barely recognizable shoulder plates.

Slowly, the talk returned, making the awkwardness of Dawnstrike's presence dissipate. She stayed silent, allowing Steve to move her about as needed to clean her off. He was careful to clean out every groove, wiping across each wound as gently as possible. As he finished her chassis, she finally spoke, more of a whisper. "Pathetic," she hissed, and the vehicon stopped at the sheer venom in her tone. "I'm completely pathetic," she continued. "I failed. I was so close I could _taste it, _and I failed."

A short wash of calm filled his chassis, followed immediately by sympathy. She wasn't upset with him, she was upset with herself. He moved to wash her damaged hip.

"I could have ended the entire war. I was right there beside the Prime- I could have reached out and torn his spark from it's casing, I was so close! He wouldn't even have been able to fight back!" Her frame was shaking again, and with her armor flared slightly to make them easier to wash, it rattled slightly. "Why the pitt did I hesitate..."

Her mumbled complaints cut off into a small cry when the washrag rubbed over the raw protoform. Her servo gripped the stool edge tight enough for it to dent. Steve flinched, pulling away quickly. "Sorry, sorry."

She vented harshly, neck tensing up. "No. Just... Just get it over with." He glanced up at her uncertainly, and she nodded. As quickly as he was capable, he swished the rag along the edge of the wound, then around the inner ring, then into the blown out socket. With every slide of the cloth, his commanders growl grew, until, just below a scream, it cut off, leaving her helm thrown back, servo cutting into the stool. The others in the wash racks glanced over to watch their Commander writhe, employing all of her self control to not kick out at the assistant. Her helm thrashed side to side once her vocalizer had cut out, until the vehicon finished and pulled the cloth away. Her helm went limp and hung forward. Her vent exploded outwards, thrusting a small bit of water from her cooling systems.

As Steve rushed to finish cleaning her, hoping that if he got her out and to her quarters he might stop the troops from talking about it, he couldn't help but ask, "Why _did _you hesitate, Commander?"

She didn't answer for a while, and fear flickered through him. He shouldn't have asked, she was already stressed, she would take his helm off for sure-

"He saved my life."

He stopped and looked up at her. Her optics had faded to a dark back glow, her faceplates angled in confusion. "I didn't realize it when I first came back online, but when I got a good look at myself, it's the only thing that fits. I remember- the roof fell in. It was crushing me. He was leaving with the other Autobots, watching the rocks falling. He was too far away for it to be accidental that we were both in the cavity together. He... he ran back and pulled me to a safe spot and he patched me up. And... And I don't know why."


	4. Chapter 4

**Post-Revenge of the Fallen, Pre-Dark of the Moon? IDK**

"Um, Excuse me, Ratchet-" _clang_ "-I was Hoping to talk with you-"_clang_ "-about this list of supplies-" CRACK.

The massive bot stared down at the human with irritation and borderline contempt. The only difference he saw between this one and the others before her was her stubborn streak. She refused to cease bugging them when she had something she wanted to talk about. "What about it? I told you, it's in order of importance and I need as much as you can get. What more could you need to know?"

She shuffled her feet a bit at his sharp tone but didn't back down. She never did, the entire three years she'd been working with them. "I'd like to know what you need them for-"

"I'm the CMO. I need them for _medical purposes_. I figured that much would be obvious." With a huff of air from his vents, he turned back to the metal he was molding into an appropriately sized fill-in for a leg-strut that Sideswipe had damaged during his last mission. He tuned out the female's attempts to recapture his attention. Honestly, she was no better than that Galloway.

He didn't even notice she had started to leave the med-bay until there was a loud splashing sound, followed instantly with a short shriek. He turned to see the liason standing frozen in shock, some sort of goo coating her from head to toe, dripping from her form in long purple-red streams. Through the doorway, he could see Sunstreaker, leaning against the wall, smirking, with a half-empty bucket of the same substance.

He watched, expecting the girl to have the typical reaction to the twins' pranks and immediately start into a loud scolding about how they were fully grown bots and should behave like it. Instead, she seemed to swell with anger for a moment before slouching. Without a word, she continued to walk, leaving a trail of the liquid he now recognized as transmission fluid as she moved. Surprising himself, he felt a sudden surge of worry for the girl. Apparently, Sunstreaker had the same feeling, judging by the look on his face. Ignoring it for the time being, Ratchet abandoned his project to chew out the Lamborghini himself.

The girl, meanwhile, trudged along to her quarters, ignoring the fact that she was probably leaving a huge mess for the janitorial crew in the wake of her defeat. She occasionally cast a mournful look the the clipboard in her hand, covered with transmission fluid. It was the only copy she had of the supply lists she'd been given by the Autobots throughout the week, and now completely unusable.

A few soldiers and commanding officers passed by her door after she went inside, pausing to stare at the stains on the doorknob and the side before moving on.

Two hours later, she emerged, no longer in her pant-suit like she was when she was working, but in sweatpants and a baggy teeshirt, hair pulled up into a sloppy, greasy bun, mostly clean but smelling strongly of car fluids and shampoo. She held a stack of papers under her arm, neatly organized and clipped in sections except for the paper on the top with a simple two paragraphs of writing.

Optimus had been informed of the recent events, and had been on his way to speak with the liason when he came across her walking towards the main office, where her superiors stayed. "Miss Reynolds, I was just coming to speak with you."

She paused and looked up at him, and the Prime did not like the look in her eye at all. She gave a very forced smile. "Hello, Optimus, sir."

"Where are you going?" He inquired politely, kneeling down to put them on more even footing.

"I'm turning in my resignation." Optims balked, visibly drawing back. Before he could say a word, she continued. "I'm sorry, Optimus. I tried. I really did. I tried to be a- a better liason than you've had, I tried to get everyone what they needed, I tried to get to know you all, but... It's pretty clear to me that none of you are happy with my work, and I'd rather give you a chance to find a liason everyone can get along with than one who tries but isn't good enough."

She idly pat the finger of the servo he'd laid beside her to brace himself. "I hope the next one's better than me." And she was walking again, and all he could do was watch, completely shocked. He'd known the others were skeptical of the liason, worried that she was no better than the others, but he'd had no idea it was so bad.

Two days later, he was introducing the team to their new liason. She was a snarky woman, who seemed to have no concerns about who they were or what they were or what they needed, refusing to get supplies without an in-depth explaination of what they would be used for. In the first two weeks, he had several of the bots come to him and beg for him to bring back Reynolds, but he had to decline. She had left for her family's ranch in Colorado, and informed the higher-ups that she wasn't planning to return.

It was their attitudes that had lost her, and now thay would have to live with it.


	5. Chapter 5

"Is this all for us?"

Megatronus laughed loud, pushing a pink-purple cube into the femmes servo while she stared around in wonder. "Say what you want about the people of Kaon, But never doubt that they know how to party. Go on, drink up. It is a celebration, after all."

He clapped her on the shoulder plate, turning to adress the room with a roar of "Victory is Ours!" The room screamed back at him, and he was soon swept away into the crowd. Nightbeat sniffed her cube lightly and grimaced. The sludge they called high-grade. She'd never actually tried it, save for once when she had first been upgraded to her adult frame, and then she'd naturally not enjoyed it.

She took the only open stool at the bar, between two bulky seekers. Probably twins, given how alike they looked. She glanced at each of them before turning to watch the party-goers. They hadn't even been there for a breem, and already Megatronus was dancing provocatively with a group of thin femmes, gyrating his hips and grinding against whichever chose to get closest. He was a complete pleasure bot. Maybe that was why he was so much fun to be around- he didn't care what people thought of him.

"Not fond of high-grade?" Her audial flickered, prompting her to glance at the green twin. He was watching her with interest, the yellow glass over his optics shining.

"Never tried it," She replied, swirling the cube with a flick of her wrist.

"You come alone?" The blue twin spoke this time, gaze wandering over her frame.

"With a friend."

Blue snorted, then offered his servo. "Dreadwing. This is my brother, Skyquake."

After a moment, Night shook. "Nightbeat."

Skyquake smirked. "Alright, Nightbeat. Five credits say you can't finish that cube."

She quirked an optic ridge. "A challenge?" She eyed the cube for a moment. "...Lets do it." _If Megs can do it..._ She put the edge of the cube to her lips, getting a slight taste of the bitterness and thickness before tipping her helm back and downing the whole thing. It tasted like the smoke that came off the refineries, burning hot and ashy with an underlying tang of energon, sliding down her intake like tar, leaving a thick residue from her glossa to her tank. She fought the urge to choke, optics shuttering tightly, plating flaring in distaste, until she had only a couple swallows left. Her intake flexed, and she felt a glob of the residue push back, forcing her to vent sharply, optics clenching tighter. The last swallow went down and she slammed the cube on the counter, vents shoving air through her intake. After a couple of 'coughs' she spit out a large blob of thick black goo into the empty cube.

"Pay up."

**This was just fun.**


End file.
